Have I Told You Lately
by mockingjayme
Summary: After his dad got offered his old job back in Tennessee, Sam Evans left McKinley High. Two years later, when Sam gets accepted to the college in Lima, will fate bring Sam and Quinn back together?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey fellow Fabrevans shippers! The last thing I need right now is another story, but it's been bothering me, so I just had to let it out. This story is set right before most of the New Directions begin college. I'm aware that UNOH does not offer a music program (because I've been researching it all morning) but for the sake of this story, we'll pretend it does. **

**And it's not very practical that everyone would be going to the same college, so some of your favorites may be missing. Right now – aside from Quinn – I'm thinking Finn, Puck, and Santana will also be attending UNOH. I think it's just enough characters for the right amount of drama. But I also know that there are some hardcore Brittana shippers out there, so maybe Brittany too. What do you think? **

**Also, obviously I don't own Glee, because if I did, Sam and Quinn would still be together.**

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><p>Two years, three months, and six days. That's how long it'd been since the last time he'd seen her in person. Two long agonizing years of wondering if he'd made a mistake. If it was really worth it.<p>

"Sam! You got a letter from UNOH! It's a thick envelope!" His mom chirped in a singsong voice.

Back in reality, Sam shook his head clear of his thoughts and stuffed his old high school pictures he'd been nostalgically looking back on back in a worn shoebox and pushed them haphazardly under his bed. UNOH – University of Northwestern Ohio – was the college he'd been waiting to hear back from. Thick envelopes usually meant acceptance, and God willing he was accepted, he'd be back in Lima, Ohio.

He met his mom in the kitchen where she all but threw the envelope right at his face. She was jumping up and down in anticipation and Sam briefly wondered if his mom was even a little more excited than he was, but then blonde hair and a Cheerios uniform popped into his mind and he knew there was no way. UNOH was the first college that had granted him a partial scholarship because of his dyslexia on the basis that he was accepted. His mom didn't know the reason he had sought out UNOH in the first place was Quinn.

Sam slid his finger under the envelope flap and pulled, ripping away the barrier and retrieving the letter from inside. "Dear Mr. Samuel Evans," he began aloud. "I am delighted to inform you that the Committee on Admissions and Financial Aid have voted to offer you a place at University of Northwestern Ohio!"

His mom screamed and hugged him and he hugged her back, his eyes still dreamily skimming over his acceptance letter. The last few weeks had been a combination of hope and dreamy what-ifs, but now that it was really happening, and he was _really_ going back to Lima, it almost didn't seem real.

Not wasting any time, he tore into his room and began packing. Within hours, his room consisted of just a bed, computer desk, and a laptop. The rest was piled high with boxes. Tomorrow, he'd drive to Lima and try to find somewhere to live.

Since the scholarship he'd landed was one of the best – the Anne Ford Scholarship – it awarded him with ten thousand dollars towards his education, and he had a little extra spending money from what his parents had been able to save after they'd gotten back on their feet in the last few years. He went to bed knowing that no matter how hard he had to search, he'd be a resident of Lima, Ohio again tomorrow.

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><p>Five in the morning came early and Sam fought the desperate urge to throw his alarm clock against the wall. He grunted and threw his blankets off himself dramatically, the early morning turning him into a drama queen. He sleepily made his way downstairs to put on some coffee and was surprised to find his whole family sitting at the dinner table smiling at him and a cup of coffee already waiting for him on the table.<p>

Stacy jumped up and hugged him around the waist. "I don't want you to go," she sobbed sleepily into his shirt.

It was almost enough to make him stay. He hugged his little sister back and kissed her head. "I'm not leaving forever," he whispered into her hair.

After a few minutes, she unbuckled her arms from around his waist and picked up his mug of coffee from the table and handed it to him. "Thank you, Stacy."

He took a sip of the coffee and let the warmth run down his throat. His mom was smiling at him. "I thought I had prepared myself for this day to come, but now that it's here, I guess I didn't think it would actually come." She's the next to hug him. She let go and chided herself silently, wiping away the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. "Your dad went out and got you a U-Haul this morning and hooked it up. You're all ready to go, kid."

Sam took one long look at his family. They had come a long way. Two and a half years ago, they'd made a decision to follow a job to a small town in Ohio where Sam had become a part of something and where he'd found love. Then, the risky move had proved to be a bad decision when they lost everything and had to move into a motel. When his dad had been offered his old job back, they made the move back to Tennessee and somewhere along the way had become a real family. It was hard to leave them now. But it was now his turn to move on and he knew that they'd always be there for him.

His dad had helped him move his things into the U-haul and gave him a look that said everything his words couldn't. He was proud of him. He knew Sam could do this. He'd always be there.

Sam hit the road for his seven hour drive to Lima at seven in the morning. He wanted to get out of Nashville before the morning rush, otherwise he'd have been stuck in traffic for hours.

He hit the Kentucky state line in less than an hour and he let himself really feel his excitement. Four more hours until he hit Cincinnati and then the two hours from there to Lima would feel like nothing. He'd be going on pure adrenaline.

He tried to ease up on the gas when he realized he was going twenty over the speed limit and then laughed at himself for being so excited. It's just Lima. It's just a girl.

But he knew that wasn't true. No girl had ever been in the corners of his mind haunting him like Quinn Fabray had. He remembered how she hadn't laughed at him when she learned that he'd become homeless like he'd feared she might, instead she stepped up and showed him a glimpse of the woman he knew she would become someday. The caring, beautiful woman he saw in her when she thought no one was looking.

With his mind occupied with going over those too-short months of their relationship, Lima was upon him in no time. He gripped the steering wheel tight as the familiarity flooded into his mind. He wanted to pull right into Quinn's driveway and kiss her so good the earth would shatter, but he was getting ahead of himself. Instead, he pulled into the library parking lot and fed off their WiFi connection from his laptop. He searched craigslist for anyone looking for a roommate.

He found only one that sounded promising and in his price range and he sent a quick email saying he was interested in the place and he would like to see it.

A few minutes later he got a reply with the address. Sam knew exactly where the house was, he'd lived only a few streets away at one time. When he pulled into the driveway, he was pleased to find that the house looked even better in person than it did on the ad.

He knocked on the door and was answered almost immediately by a Mohawk. A Mohawk that had been all-too-familiar at William McKinley. Noah Puckerman.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Trouty Mouth. Come on in."

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><p><strong>I know this chapter was a little boring and kind of short, but I wanted to set it up rather nicely for the next chapter. But what do you think? Should I continue with it, or just scrap it? Please read and review.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the love, already, you amazing review people! And people who favorite and add to alerts but don't review, I love you too, but it's just a whole lot less. ;)**

**Response to 'hey' anonymous reviewer: First off, THANK YOU for reviewing! Now, to address some of the things you've said. 1. You will see – well, **_**read**_** – in a flashback how he told the glee kids that he left. I just didn't want to get into EVERYTHING in the very first chapter. You know? 2. Quinn will definitely have her own point of view. I was actually going to have hers in the first chapter, but I didn't want to jump between POVs. 3. I agree that the chapter seemed rushed, but I knew about where I wanted it to end, and I didn't want to put a whole lot of detailed nonsense into the story if people didn't want to read it or just filled up a whole lot of space with things people don't care about so by the time they get to the end of the chapter they are like "did I really waste all that time reading pretty much nothing?" Seems like I have an issue with either too much detail or not enough, haven't been able to find my happy medium yet. 4. Sam could have had a job until the summer when he knew he'd be going off to college. He'll be getting a job in Lima, though. Also, to add to the Quinn's POV request, there is something you're going to find out in her POV that I didn't want to introduce until later.**

**Don't worry, guys, when Sam and Quinn are together it will be 3****rd**** person omniscient POV.**

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><p>A single ray of sunshine heated Quinn's cheek a light shade of red. She groaned and rolled over to the other side of the bed and stuck her head under her fluffy down pillow. The room was blazingly hot – <em>why wasn't the air conditioner on?<em> – but she wasn't ready to get up yet.

Frustrated and uncomfortable thanks to the heat; she picked her head up to look at the time. "Twelve-thirty? Really?" She asked herself out loud. She didn't like to sleep in. It was a waste of a day.

Suddenly wide awake and slightly annoyed at herself, she hopped out of bed and raked a hand through her blonde hair. She opted just to tie it up in a high ponytail, not unlike her days as at McKinley High.

It was a little sad to know that her high school days were over, but liberating by the same token. She could write a new answer to the question _Who is Quinn Fabray?_ That excited her, but it also made her nervous. She could be anyone she wanted, but she didn't know who that was yet. Or if she was even worth knowing.

Looking at herself in the mirror and reflecting over her high school career, she stood up straighter and said, "I'm going to be strong. No matter who I am, I am going to be strong."

Quinn began to hum a melody without realizing she'd given her mouth permission to do so, and it wasn't until she got to the chorus that she realized what the song was. She stopped abruptly, surprising herself with her mind's song selection. She hadn't sung that song since… well, since the duet competition with Sam. _Lucky I'm in love with my best friend…_

Another wave of nostalgia hit her as a flash of blonde hair and big lips filled her mind. She'd tried so hard to forget him. To pretend like he didn't mean as much to her as he really did. And as much as she thought she'd convinced herself, there was no pretending. Sam Evans had a permanent mark on her heart.

Her phone's shrill ringtone pulled her back to reality and she answered it without first seeing who it was. "Hello?"

"Hey, MILF."

"Noah," she said dryly.

"Who pissed in your Frosted Flakes this morning?" He laughed airily.

She sighed and ignored him. "What do you want, Noah?"

"Just called to tell you that I have someone coming to look at the room."

"That's great. It'd be nice if you could finally have someone there." Quinn was only half paying attention to the conversation.

"Yeah, you know since _someone _won't move in no matter how many times I ask her."

She'd set herself up perfectly for that one. "It's nothing personal, you know that. I'm just… I'm not ready to take that big of a step yet."

"Quinn, we had a baby together. Is there even a step _after_ that? I think we pretty much walked the whole staircase. We've been together for almost two years now." His voice had taken on an almost desperate tone.

Their relationship was one of convenience, not love. They both knew that. She'd been so broken after Sam left and it nearly destroyed Puck after Zizes dumped him and moved on so quickly with Jacob Ben Israel, it just made sense that they try to fix their brokenness together. She never understood the appeal that Lauren Zizes had over Puck, but she'd never seen him so down.

"Quinn?"

She'd forgotten about him on the phone. "Sorry. Um, I'll be over in a little bit. Maybe I can catch the potential renter on the way out and tell them you really aren't as weird as you sound."

"Lying is a sin, Quinny. You'd only set them under false pretenses." He laughed. She was glad he'd turned into a more lighthearted territory. She didn't think she could handle explaining to him that she couldn't move in with him because she didn't want to live with someone she didn't love. She loved him, yes, but not the right kind of love. The kind of love you really only ever meet once. She had her time, but she still held onto that hope that maybe she could find it again. But for now she was in a safe place. She didn't feel the need to run at any moment because there was no threat of getting too close.

"I'll be over in about half an hour. Try not to scare this prospect away so fast this time, alright?" They laughed and she hung up the phone.

Who was she kidding? She wasn't strong. She wasn't even strong enough to admit to herself that the only reason she was with Puck was because it was a safe place to be. She wasn't even strong enough to be alone.

She shook her head of all her thoughts and focused solely on applying some eyeliner to her upper eyelid, mascara and just the right amount of lip gloss. She was still Quinn Fabray, after all. And if there is anything Quinn Fabray knows, it's how to look fabulous.

Her eyes quickly raked over her wardrobe, avoiding her red Cheerios uniform. She picked out a floral dress and layered a small white bolero on top. Expected, but still the right amount of pretty.

The drive to Puck's house was short and she had to park on the side because the truck with a U-Haul attached took up the whole driveway. At least Noah hadn't managed to scare them away. Yet.

As she walked up the driveway to the front door she couldn't help eyeing the truck. She'd never seen it before. When her eyes took in the plates, she understood why. They were Tennessee plates. Sam once again flooded into her mind. What were the chances that someone from Tennesse came to _Lima_?

For a minute, thinking of Sam, she almost didn't want to be here anymore. She didn't want to see Puck. She didn't want to feel that empty hollowness where love was void. But she continued anyway. There was nothing she could do about it now.

She pressed her ear to the door to see if she could hear Puck making an ass out of himself, but she could hear nothing more than slight muffled voices. The potential roommate was a guy. But beyond that, she couldn't hear anything.

She knocked tentatively at first and then made her knocks a little louder when no one answered the door.

Finally, Puck's head appeared. "Quinn!" He opened the door a little wider and she found herself peeking through the doorway. "You'll never guess who-"

Her blood ran cold. Standing not ten feet in front of her was a mop of blonde hair and a mouth you could see from China. It was a beautiful and horrifying sight.

She uttered one word. Just one. It choked her on the way out. "Sam?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Guys! I'm **_**not**_** a Quick shipper. They are only together for the sake of drama. I promise beyond promise that this story is one of the fabrevans nature.**

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><p>"Sam?" She choked on the word, disguising her surprise by clearing her throat and trying the name out again. "Sam?"<p>

He could see her lips moving, but his heart was beating so hard in his ears that he couldn't hear her voice. And that was what he really wanted; to hear her voice. "Quinn."

"Puck," Puck said, pointing at himself. "Good, now we're all acquainted. Should we start moving some of your things in the room?" He turned to address Sam.

Sam didn't hear him. He was still staring at Quinn. She was real and she was _there_. He could reach out and feel her soft flesh if he wanted.

"Dude." Puck waved his hand in front of Sam's face.

"Huh?" He shook his head. "Sorry. What?"

"Your things, room, move, now?"

"Oh. Yeah, yeah, let's do that." Sam looked down at his shoes. He didn't want to make a fool out of himself already and if he pulled another staring contest like that, surely she'd think something was wrong with him.

"Dude, Tennessee made you stupid," Puck said as he walked towards the door, only stopping to give Quinn a quick kiss on the head. "Looks like you can't move in with me anymore," he whispered.

She shrugged him away nonchalantly, hoping Sam didn't read into the kiss. All the sudden she felt almost dirty, as if she was blatantly cheating on her boyfriend right in front of his nose. It wasn't fair. Sam couldn't just show up like that and turn her world inside out just when she'd gotten her footing. It wasn't fair!

Sam moved to follow Puck, who was already in the back of the U-Haul getting things together to bring in. He didn't say anything as his shoulder almost brushed against hers. The closeness was almost unbearable. She reached out and grabbed his hand startling him to a halt.

His eyes met hers and they stood in silence for a moment before a banging in the back of the U-Haul snapped them out of it. "It's really good to see you" was all she said. She let his hand slip from hers slowly and looked down at the floor as he walked outside to help Puck.

Sam pondered the look on her face as he walked to the truck. "Took you long enough. What, were you putting your makeup on, princess?" Puck laughed and handed Sam a chair to stack with the rest of the pile that Puck had already started.

The kiss had not been lost on Sam and he wanted to know what was going on with the two of them, but he wasn't sure how to ask. He decided to just go for it. "So… uh, are you and Quinn…?"

"Together? Yeah. Have been for about two years now." Puck wiped some sweat from his forehead and handed Sam a piece of his bed frame. "You don't have to worry though." Puck added, misreading the look on Sam's face.

"Worry about what?"

"About me kicking you out if she ever decides to finally move in with me. It's just not going to happen. I don't know why. I mean, it's not like we had a kid together or anything." Puck shrugged and climbed further in the U-Haul to move the rest of Sam's things forward.

"Oh, good," he said, glumly. Puck didn't seem to hear his tone, though, and for that Sam was grateful. He wasn't sure what was worse. Living away from Quinn but having the image of her still being in love with him and wishing he'd come sweeping in and they could pick up where they'd left off, or being five feet away from her and watching her love someone else.

He decided on the latter.

Quinn watched the boys moving things out of the U-Haul through the blinds. She scolded herself when she realized she was focusing on the way Sam's muscles convulsed when he picked things up and placed them down.

She still couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't real. That Sam wasn't really here. He was just a figment of her imagination, or one of her nightmares where Sam returns to her only to find she's with someone else. Much like her current reality.

Moving her attention back to the blonde boy with the furniture, she noted the way he stood was still the same. A slight lean to the left from when he was younger and had broken his ankle – a minor detail he had shared with her when she told him she wanted to know everything about him. The information had just stuck with her through the years. It was the small things that made the big picture, and she loved the little flaws just as much as his… _assets._

Admiring the way he handled a rather heavy desk, Quinn realized too late that he was turned in her direction, and it looked as if he were staring right at her.

_That's impossible. He can't see through the blinds_. But she swore she saw a tiny smile on the curve of his lips as he turned his attention back to Puck.

"So, we got everything out of this crapper, now we need to move it all into that one," Puck said, eyeing the bout of furniture and belongings Sam had brought with him and then nodding towards the house.

"We should start with the heavy stuff first, right?"

"Yeah, and we can send Quinn out to get some of the smaller things. I'm sure she's getting antsy in there. God knows she hates being in that house." Puck rolled his eyes, referring once again to how Quinn refused to move in with him on multiple occasions.

He didn't make a comment, instead electing to pick up his dresser and make his way to the front door. On his short walk, he contemplated ways to open the door without putting the piece of furniture down. He had a good grip on it and he wanted to avoid having to put it down, open the door, and pick it up again. It was just too much effort and he was already tired of moving.

He shifted a little to the right to somehow maneuver it to balance between his hip and one arm as he fiddled with the door knob, but it turned out his planning was in vain as the door opened for him. As he stepped in, he found Quinn behind the door smiling at him.

"Figured you could use some help."

"Yeah. Thanks," he said and continued to his new room. He kicked himself. _Yeah, thanks_? That was all he could say? _Yeah, thanks_? He rolled his eyes at himself as he rested his dresser against the wall and made his way back to the driveway, passing Puck with half of his desk in hand.

"Anywhere specific you want me to put this?"

"No, anywhere is good."

"Good, that's what I was going to do anyway," Sam heard Puck call from somewhere in the house. He rolled his eyes comically. Same old Puck.

It took a solid hour to move all the big stuff into his room and set it up in a semi-normal way. The only thing left to get were his boxes. There were only a few, so between the three of them, it would take three trips tops. He sighed in relief. Unpacking the boxes could wait until tomorrow. He'd been over moving since before he'd even gotten to Lima.

Quinn was on her way to grab the last remaining box that Puck hadn't been able to carry. It was just a little bigger than a shoebox and pretty light. It had no marks indicating what was inside – not that she'd been checking out his stuff or anything.

She wasn't paying attention, electing instead to focus on the mystery box. Somewhere along the way, her shoelace had come untied and she stepped on it, gravity forcing her to meet the ground and the box spilled from her hands.

"Shit," she grumbled, hoping nothing was breakable in the box. She picked herself up and surveyed the damage. She just had a small scrape on her knee. Nothing a few days wouldn't fix.

When she turned her attention back to the box and her breath caught in her throat. Unlike the rest of the boxes, this one had not been taped shut and its contents had spilled all across the driveway. That wasn't what made her stop, however. It was what the contents were. A ring and some pictures and notes. The very same promise ring Sam had given her when they first started dating and she'd thrown it back at him in a fit of anger and sorrow when he'd announced in glee club that he would be moving back to Tennessee. And then there were the pictures. Most of the pictures she didn't even remember them taking together. She picked them up slowly, placing them in the box only when she'd relived the memory they had captured. How badly she wanted to transport back into those pictures and fix everything.

She didn't hear the footsteps until she could see the shoes they belonged to. She looked up to see Sam looking at her in horror. "I-uh, I'll finish cleaning this up," he said awkwardly. "Thanks for all the help." He knelt down, stuffing everything into the box as fast as he could.

She said nothing, pushing herself off the ground to retreat into the house. She still clutched the ring tightly in her hand.

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><p>Despite Sam's intentions to not unpack until the next day, he was quickly overruled when Quinn announced that she was going to stay the night to help get the job done. Puck had retired to bed early, complaining that he had to be up early in the morning for his job. Quinn hadn't seemed to mind, but they hadn't spoken a word to each other since the box incident.<p>

Finally, as she was folding some of his shirts and placing them delicately in their respective drawers he decided it was time to speak up. "I'm sorry if what I had in that box freaked you out. I know we haven't even spoken since I left and it probably seems really strange to you, but I wanted to keep them. I couldn't find it in my heart to throw them away."

She remained silent for a moment, her back still facing him. She twirled her old promise ring around on her finger, finding it to fit just as perfectly as it had when she first got it. Slowly, she turned to face him. "Do you still love me, Sam?"

Her bluntness took him aback. The Quinn he remembered would have beaten around the bush, but she didn't. He sighed. "The truth?" he asked. She nodded. "Yes."

Quinn looked down and then back up at him. Slowly, but almost in fast motion at the same time, she knelt across the bed so they were face to face only inches apart. She looked from his lips to his eyes back to his lips and landing on his eyes.

Unwilling to pass up the opportunity, Sam leaned in until he felt the familiar brush of lips against his. After a few seconds the kiss grew deeper and he wove a hand through her gold locks. She reached one of her hands up to touch his face and he felt something scratch against his cheek. He tried to ignore it, but it scratched him again. He broke the kiss and grabbed her hand in his to see what was causing the scratching.

His heart stopped when he saw she was wearing his ring. He'd desperately searched through the box looking for it, and damn near cried when he thought it had disappeared forever, but seeing it on her finger made him swell with pride. She loved him too. That gesture proved it all.

She saw him staring at the ring and the guilt washed over her. She pulled her hand from his grasp and pulled the ring from her finger, setting it on the bed a good foot and a half away from her. She pushed herself from the bed. "I shouldn't have… _we_ shouldn't have… I'm sorry. This was a mistake." She was out the door and soon he heard the purr of her car come to life and he saw the reflection of her headlights as she drove away.

He sighed and reached out to grab the ring. She'd been wearing it, just like before. Suddenly, Sam had hope for the first time since arriving to Lima. It was small, but it was all he had, and he was going to hold onto it with both hands.


	4. Chapter 4

**Guys! I am so devastated right now that Chord isn't coming back to Glee. Legit. Depressed. It's awful.**

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><p>Quinn smacked her steering wheel in frustration. Why had she allowed herself to be so stupid? She had <em>kissed<em> Sam in _Noah's_ house! Maybe once a cheater, always a cheater was really true. She sure hadn't made any effort to prove it wrong.

But a part of her couldn't help being extremely satisfied that not only had he saved all of the memories of their past, but he'd also kissed her back. And he'd kissed her back _good_. She sighed and hit her steering wheel one more time for good measure.

She knew that Noah would be confused when he woke up in the morning and found Quinn missing. She'd make up an easy to swallow excuse and he would believe her, because in actuality he didn't care. All he cared about was that Quinn was there to take away the hurt Lauren had left behind, and he was only there so he could be a small substitute for Sam. But now Sam was back.

And she was more confused than ever.

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><p>Sam was laying on his back staring up at his ceiling, throwing the ring in the air and catching it. It hurt him more than he cared to admit that she had taken it off. But it gave him more <em>hope<em> than he cared to admit that she had put it on in the first place.

He couldn't bring himself to regret it even though the object of his love's boyfriend had just let him move into his house. And maybe it was wrong, but love didn't care about things like that. And love had a hold on him. It hadn't let him go since the minute he'd laid eyes on her in high school.

He felt restless; caught between wanting to chase after her and wanting to try and turn his feelings off. He knew the latter would be impossible, but he also knew it was going to land him in hot, hot water. And soon – if his intuition was correct – because he felt the buildup in the air already, whether Puck knew anything or not.

He knew they had a past. That was enough.

He flipped around on his bed, trying to get comfortable and force his eyes closed, but he was restless. He grabbed his phone off his bedside table (which he was thankfully hadn't had the time to get messy, so he found it easily) and his fingers flew over the buttons, typing in the familiar number to his mom's phone.

She answered before the first ring was even over, and he had to stifle a laugh because he could picture her sitting at the kitchen table, phone clutched tightly in her hand, while she waited for him to call. After assuring her that was, in fact, still alive and actually settled into his new place (with an old friend, no less) he decided to delve into the other things. The things he still needed his mom for. How to deal with his Quinn situation was pretty high up on the list. "I did something really stupid. But I just can't bring myself to regret it."

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><p>Quinn pulled up to her house in record time, her fingers clenching her steering wheel so tight, her knuckles were white. She unwrapped them slowly, the pain of the blood flow returning causing them to ache. She absently rubbed her sore knuckles, slipping her key out of the ignition and placing her keys and hands in her lap.<p>

She looked up at her dark house, having not turned the light on when she'd left because she didn't think she'd be coming home that night. She flipped on her car light and dug through her purse, looking for her cell phone to use as a light so that she could unlock her door.

But her phone wasn't in her purse. She sighed, frustrated, as she flicked on her headlights to get enough light to get into her house. She slammed her car door shut for good measure as she walked quickly to her front door, casting nervous glances over her shoulders for night prowlers. Not that she lived in a bad neighborhood – on the contrary, actually – but she always felt vulnerable when it was dark, like someone could jump out of the shadows at any moment.

She pushed her door open and flicked the outside light on before returning to her car to turn her lights off and lock her doors. Once back inside, she set her purse down on her mantle with a sigh. She'd forgotten her cell phone. Probably on Sam's bed. _Perfect_.

And if Noah found it before she got it back, he'd know something was up. She stomped into the kitchen and pulled her house phone off its hook and dialed the numbers to her cell phone, tapping her fingers against her thigh and leaning against a wall in her kitchen. "Pick up, pick up…" she begged into the phone as it rang.

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><p>Sam was in the middle of listening to his mom talk about keeping his morals when he felt his blanket start to vibrate. He looked down, slightly panicked, his own phone dropping from his ear, until he found the source of the vibrations. He picked up the phone with the word <em>HOME<em> flashing across the screen.

He searched his bed for his dropped phone and held it up to his ear. "Mom. I have to call you back. It's Quinn. I love you." He pressed END on his phone call with his mom and answered hers. "Quinn?"

Quinn sighed. "Oh, thank God you have my phone. Listen, can you put it on the bedside table on the couch, please?"

Sam sighed. "Why don't you just come and get it? I'll even bring it right out to you. I… I want to see you, Quinn. You just… left."

Quinn sunk down her wall until her bottom met the floor and she drew her knees up to her chest, squeezing her eyes tight and shaking her head, even though he couldn't see her. "I can't, Sam."

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, his eyes closing, already defeated. "Please, Quinn. _Please_."

Quinn's heart almost broken when she heard the desperate pleading in his voice, but she could also hear the resignation. "It can never happen again, Sam. I'm with Noah, okay? You left and I tried to move on. It's not fair that you – that you can just _show up_ and make me feel like this again, Sam. It hurts too much."

Sam shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose harder as he tried not to get angry. _She_ was the one hurting? Did she not think about anyone but herself? He was living with the girl he's madly in love with's boyfriend. And knowing Puck, they were probably sleeping together too. He tried to shake his head of the image and a small growl escaped his lips. "_You_ were the one who put _my_ ring back on, Quinn. And then you just threw it at me and ran away. _After_ you kissed me. Yeah, _you're _the only one who's hurting here. You don't think I deserve some kind of explanation? Or _something_?"

Quinn's head fell back against the wall her back was pressed to. She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to stop the tears. She didn't want him to know she was crying. "Just put it on the table by the couch," she said, her voice deceptively calm, as she cut off the conversation and threw her phone across the room.

She didn't care that she could distinctly hear her phone land in three different places, obviously broken. She didn't care about any of it.

She dropped her head into her hands and cried. Just cried.


	5. Chapter 5

**Shameless tumblr blog promotion: If any of you are on tumblr and love Fabrevans as much as I do, then you should follow me. Lovergron[.]tumblr[.]com. I'll follow back :) (if you're not a Quick or Samcedes blog, that is) And also, sorry for the amount of time it's taken me to get this chapter out. I didn't really know where I wanted it to go and I was in the middle of moving to Texas.**

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><p>Quinn woke up with her cheek pressed against the tile floor of her kitchen, her head aching and her eyes tired from crying. She wasn't sure when she'd fallen asleep or if she'd really gotten any kind of sleep at all. She could see the pink dawn of the morning and she felt exhausted and yet unable to fall asleep. She didn't even attempt to move from her spot on the floor. The cold tile felt good pressed up against her face and she hugged her tiny middle as a million thoughts ran through her head.<p>

Her obvious choice was Sam. The only one she'd ever loved. The only one she'd let in; let her guard down around. But when he left, that guard shot back up with padlocks and welds. And she didn't want to let herself be weak and vulnerable again. And Sam made her that way.

Vulnerability was a weakness. Not being strong enough to keep things to yourself was a weakness. Noah didn't push her for answers when she said she was okay when it was clearly not the case. Most people didn't. Most people didn't really care. Sam did, though. He always did.

And opening her heart up for him again would be the most dangerous thing she'd ever done because he was the only one who could break her completely.

Noah was the safe choice, just like Finn had been in high school. He was the steady choice, the one she didn't have to worry about. She didn't love him and she never would. Her heart wasn't hers anyway. It hadn't been hers since the day she'd washed cherry slushie out of Sam's hair and he'd looked at her like she'd never seen anyone look at her before. He'd looked at her like he was seeing _her_ for the very first time. And no one had ever taken the time to try. He did it in thirty seconds.

But she wasn't high school Quinn anymore and he wasn't high school Sam. Things had changed. Circumstances had changed. A lot had happened. And she'd kissed him. In her boyfriend's house.

And she wanted to do it again.

And that was the worst part. She couldn't get the feel of his lips pressed against hers out of her mind, or the way his fingers curled around the fabric of her dress by her hip, pulling her as close to him as he could. She could feel the calluses of his hands – from playing the guitar, she guessed – through the thin fabric and she could almost imagine the feeling again if she closed her eyes and tried hard enough. She shivered just thinking about it.

She hadn't prayed in a long time; she hadn't felt close to God in even longer. But as she lay there with the cold tile against her cheek, she let her eyes slip closed as she murmured words under her breath, asking for guidance, for some kind of help.

Not that it mattered. If there was a God, he stopped listening to her pleas a long time ago.

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><p>Sam had hardly slept at all. He'd held her phone in his hand, twisting it around to keep his hands busy while he thought over everything. He tried to think rationally, but all he could really think about was how she'd been so close. How he'd finally been able to kiss her after all that time of being apart.<p>

The kiss was too short. It wasn't enough. He'd wanted more. _So much more_. He always did around Quinn. But he was a gentleman. He didn't push _ever_. But never with Quinn. Especially her.

So thinking about it again wasn't exactly helping his frame of mind. He was still a guy, after all. He kept replaying her small whimper over and over again in his head, his hands balling into fists like they had over the fabric of her dress.

He had really kissed her. After all that time, he'd finally gotten to kiss her again. Sure, the circumstances were… _really _crappy. His old friend (well, kind of friend, anyway) let him move into his house and there he was kissing his girlfriend the first chance he got. And he had no claim over her. He didn't "have" her first. He wasn't the father of her baby. There were so many things he wasn't and only one thing he was.

Which was totally and completely in love with Quinn Fabray.

God, he was such a sap. It was just… Quinn Fabray could do that to him. She was the only one. He was the nerdy guy who did impressions and made lame jokes. He was the blunt of most people's jokes and he was often socially awkward. He didn't do anything special – nothing no one else couldn't do for her – but God, he could love her. He could love her with everything if she would give him the chance.

Hell, he already _did_ love her that much.

But she wouldn't even talk to him.

So he continued to twist her phone around in his hand, his mind on the kiss, on the planes of her face, on the way she'd put on his ring. On her sounds.

…on his now opening door, a picture of a tired looking Noah Puckerman sticking his head through, rubbing his eyes before looking at the blonde boy.

Sam quickly tucked Quinn's phone under himself as he looked up expectantly. "Listen, dude… I know you want to catch a glimpse of this, but…" Sam laughed once, trying to play it all cool, running a hand down his clothed stomach.

Puck rolled his eyes. "No, I was just looking for Q. Do you know where she got off to?"

Sam paused for only a moment while he fumed over the fact that Puck had called her Q. That was his name for her. "Uh, yeah, dude. She said she had to go home for something." He raised his hands as if he knew absolutely nothing.

Puck scratched his head, stifling a yawn and shrugged. "Oh well. Would have been nice to know she left." He turned to leave and Sam let out a sigh, but he turned back with a tired dopey smile on his face. "Also. Dude. We both know I'm the one with the sexy ass body around here."

Sam laughed once tiredly as he heard the door shut behind Puck and the Mohawked man disappeared from sight. He stifled a yawn and looked over at the time. It was seven in the morning and he hadn't gotten any sleep.

And he knew he wouldn't be getting any anytime soon.

He felt her phone begin to vibrate in his hand and he quickly brought it up to his face assuming she was calling him again. Maybe she finally wanted to talk.

But he saw the name NOAH across her screen and he had the sudden urge to throw the phone. Or maybe just to hit ignore and make it look like she was forwarding his calls straight to voicemail. But he couldn't do that to her. He wouldn't. If Puck was who she wanted, then he would let her be happy with him. It would kill him, but he would do it. Because she was Quinn. She was the reason his heart clenched tightly in his chest when he thought about that blonde hair or those perfectly crafted legs or the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen. She was the one good thing that ever came out of Lima. She was everything. So he'd be nothing to her if that was what she wanted because he'd always give her what she wanted.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't go down fighting first.

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><p>Red and puffy eyes littered with a trace of black and blue underneath from lack of sleep was the image reflected in her bathroom mirror. The light was blaring down on her and she sniffled, wiping at her face roughly even though she'd stopped crying quite some time ago.<p>

She wasn't even sure what she'd been crying about. She was always the reason for her misfortunes. But she was still battling with herself because everything she wanted had come waltzing back into her life and had made it obvious that he wanted to be there, but she'd just… left. Ran away. Because she was a coward and that was all that she would ever be.

And she knew she had to face him. She needed to get her phone back. But that was dangerous because she _wanted_ him to kiss her again. She wanted to feel his rough hands with their soft touches against her skin, pulling her closer, making her feel like he could never get enough of her. Making her feel wanted. Which was all she had ever asked from anyone.

She wiped at her face again and sniffed, rolling her shoulders back to stand taller and at least appear confident. It wasn't hard to fall back into her perfectly practiced charade that she'd perfected over her high school career.

The tenseness in her shoulders didn't falter the whole drive to Noah's house, although her fingers drummed nervously against her steering wheel, much like her heart against her rib cage.

The car ride was much too short and after what felt like only a minute later, she was pulling into Noah's driveway noting that his truck was conveniently missing while one with Tennessee plates was not. She hoped that maybe he was sleeping and she'd be able to slip in, grab her phone, and slip out with him none the wiser.

A shaky hand reached out to clasp around the cold metal doorknob as she eased her key slowly into the lock, clanking the mechanism to life with a click that normally wouldn't have sounded like a bomb. But right at that moment it did. She winced and waited a moment before twisting the knob slowly and pushing the door open.

When she was finally inside, she turned to close the door just as quietly. When she could finally breathe enough to look around, she couldn't see or hear a single soul. She let out a quiet breath of relief. Perhaps the boys went out to catch up with each other.

On more stable legs, she made her way to Sam's room, assuming that the phone would still be in his room, not on the table beside the couch like she'd asked. But she was halted immediately after entering when she found him lying across his bed with headphones in his ears. He looked just as surprised to see her as he quickly shuffled around trying to stand while Quinn's mind screamed _fight or flight?_

Sam pulled his ear buds out quickly, letting them drop to the floor completely forgotten. He held out a hand, a plea that she not run like he knew she wanted to. "Quinn. Please. Please don't leave. I…" He trailed off. What was he supposed to say to her that he hadn't already said? Now that he had the opportunity to say something, where did all his words go?

Her legs were planted firmly in place, either too shocked at finding him to move or too curious to turn away. Her eyes darted around his room, finally spotting her phone beside his bed before flicking back up to meet his. She swallowed thickly and tried to recall that poise that she'd driven all the way here for. "What is it, Sam?" she tried to say as authoritive as she could.

Sam sputtered; his mouth opening and then closing. Her screwed his eyes shut tight and shook his head. "Quinn, I just… can't we talk? Obviously we need to talk. You…" he gestured helplessly towards her and then ran his hand through his hair. "You put on my ring. And then you kissed me and I—"

Quinn held up a silencing finger. "I did _not_ kiss _you_. _You_ kissed _me_."

Sam fought the urge to roll his eyes. He could have argued that she made more of a move than he did. That she initiated it and he merely moved his head those last few inches to finish what she started. But arguing was useless and it would have the opposite effect. And he had her attention and he needed to keep it for as long as possible. "Okay. Fine. I kissed you. But Quinn. I just – god damn it, you are so infuriating sometimes. You won't listen to a single thing I have to say. You just want to fight with me! Did you not hear me the other day, Quinn? I _love_ you, okay? I love you. I never stopped. I applied to UNOH so that I could be closer to _you_ again. And you won't even give me the time of day to even tell you that. But you're probably happy with Puck, huh? I'm sure he treats you like the gentlemen he was the first time you two were together!"

Quinn's head, which had fallen towards the floor to mask her tears, snapped up to look at him furiously. She stayed quiet for a moment, her eyes burning into his as she pretended not to see the instantaneous regret in his eyes. And then her façade broke as she finally spoke. "You were the _only_ person that never judged me," she said quietly, calmly, her voice only breaking at the end of the sentence.

Without another word, she grabbed her phone from off his table and stormed out through his room, slamming his door shut loudly behind her.

Sam didn't go after her. He didn't deserve to. She was right. He'd just broken his biggest promise to her. The one thing she needed more than anything else was to feel accepted for exactly who she was. And he'd just broken that promise.

He fell back against his bed limply, dropping his head into his hands. He always knew he had a one up on everyone else simply because he _was_ that guy that accepted her for who she was. Loved her even more because of her flaws.

And now he wasn't any better than the rest of them.


	6. Chapter 6

**So. I've decided that this story will be moved up to the rating of "M" starting with this chapter. I'm sorry if that makes anyone too uncomfortable to continue reading. But anyway, thanks for reading and please remember to review! It means a lot.**

**Also, this chapter is kind of a filler. The next chapter should be much better. I promise.**

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><p>Puck wasn't a stupid guy. Sure, he wasn't the smartest. But he certainly wasn't dumb. <em>Espcially<em> when it came to chicks. And even more when it came to Quinn. The last year or so he'd come to memorize certain little things (even though admitting it would probably make his balls fall off and turn into a vagina, so he just never did). Most of the time he just ignored them. He really didn't care all that much.

She was kind of a lot of work and the payoff certainly wasn't worth the effort. He laughed bitterly at himself. The payoff? There was no payoff at all. He thought _maybe_ he'd have been able to get to third base by now, but he knew what he was to her. He was just her placeholder. The person to show her that she wasn't _completely_ alone.

But now shit was just getting irritating.

He knew letting Sam live with him was going to be a mistake from the get go. The kid was soft anyway. He definitely wasn't a drinking buddy. He was too stuck up Quinn's ass to want to go out and at least _try_ to pick up chicks. It was just a waste. But he needed the money and Lady Lips was the only one who'd answered the ad.

Plus, it wasn't like Puck was a bad guy. He just wasn't the guy for _Quinn_. And he knew that. He honestly didn't know why they played this stupid game anyway. He didn't get anything out of it. He knew she didn't either.

She just needed someone to coddle her and tell her they loved her and make sure she knew she wasn't alone.

But Noah Puckerman also wasn't a loser. And he wasn't planning on losing Quinn to Sam for a second time.

His hardened hands reached out to knock against the wood door to Sam's room. When he heard a small grunt in invitation, he pushed the door open and flopped down onto the bed beside Sam who was scrambling with his phone and slipping it into his pocket.

"What's up, dude?" Before waiting for an answer, he had already turned to look at him. "Tonight. You and me are going out for drinks."

Sam sputtered but figured he kind of owed it to his friend, anyway. "Uh… sure. But… I don't have a fake ID or anything, so…"

Puck clapped Sam on the back. "Don't worry about it, dude. I got you covered." And then he got up and left Sam with furrowed brows and a guilty conscious.

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><p>His dream was vivid. Naked. Her body beneath his. Sweaty, close, passionate. Words whispered against lips kissed swollen. Promises of forever. Her losing control, holding onto him tighter as she lost herself completely to him, letting go of it all.<p>

Waking up was not only a hard slap of reality, but it was also extremely uncomfortable. He blinked his eyes open, reaching out a hand to wipe at the small pool of sweat over his brows. Slowly he sat up and wiped at his sleep crusted eyes, glancing down at the product of his dream and groaning.

He finally managed to pull himself out of bed as he stumbled towards the bathroom to relieve himself. The shadow of the dream still plagued his mind; Quinn beneath him, pulling him as close to her as was possible, his name leaving her lips in panted whispers.

He really needed to stop thinking about her that way.

And he supposed he should probably stop wanting her that way too.

Especially now that he didn't deserve her. Not now when he'd just proved to her that he was like every other jackass that she'd ever dated. But what else could he do to make her see? She _had_ to know that he wouldn't be that way, right? He was just _so_ desperate for her to know that he loved her and he _would_ love her.

He flopped down onto his bed and pulled out his phone, typing out an apology to Quinn. He erased and rewrote until he was interrupted by the sounds of knocking against his door.

Enter Puck. He stuffed his phone into his pocket quickly just as Puck dropped himself down onto the bed.

A few hours later, he was standing in front of his closet trying to find something suitable to wear. He repeatedly checked his phone for an answering message from Quinn that never came. With a frustrated sigh, he threw his phone to his bed and pulled out a flannel shirt and pulled it on. After some cologne, he deemed himself acceptable enough to be out in public.

And with one last look at his phone to find no more messages, he decided to forget about Quinn altogether. Why should he live his life around her, anyway? Was his gesture not grand enough? What did he need to do? Buy a freaking _star_ and name it after her like on that one cheesy movie she loved so much?

Well, he didn't have the money for that. And no, he didn't look into it. On more than one occasion.

So, he was out. He had to be. He came all the way out to Ohio to go to college to be near her again. And she knew. And she didn't care. So, what else was he supposed to do?

Step one: forget about the girl with the beautiful eyes and the blonde hair.

So he turned his phone to silent and slipped it into his pocket, and headed for the door where he met Puck in the living room who punched him in the shoulder. "You take longer than a chick to get ready, dude. This isn't a date, you know that, right?"

Sam slipped into an easy grin and ran a hand down his stomach, shooting an exaggerated wink in Puck's direction. "Not yet it's not." They both let out one laugh turned grunt before heading out the door.

Sam's fingers drummed a steady, nervous beat against his knees. "Are you sure these IDs are going to work?" Honestly, Sam's worry didn't have anything to do with the fake IDs. He just had a feeling this was a very bad idea. Puck had been sneaking into bars before the age of fifteen, so the IDs were really the least of his problems.

"Dude. You worry like a chick. Chill out and let the Puckermaster do what he does best. Just focus on all the chicks you're going to pick up and go with the flow man. Seriously. You on the rag or something?"

Sam didn't answer. Instead, he fought the urge to check his cell phone. Puck was right. Chicks. Right.

Except it was really the last thing he wanted.

But after walking through the doors and feeling the energy of the place, he was able to more effectively push any and all thoughts of Quinn from his mind. His eyes scanned the darkened bar lit by only bright neon lights, his heart pumping as the adrenaline began kicking in. A smile spread across his face and he nodded his head along with the music as Puck led them towards the bar.

He easily barked out an order and not soon after, a drink was sitting in front of him. He eyed it warily and then looked at Puck. "What is it?"

Puck shot him a smirk and downed his shot. "It's jesus in a glass. Drink up, Trouty." He patted Sam hard on the back and eyed him.

Sam could feel his cheeks flush. He wanted to say no. But he didn't. Instead, he shrugged and threw back his glass like Puck had, not anticipating the sting in his throat and the immediate coughing fit that bubbled up his throat and fought its way through his lips.

Puck laughed, patting Sam harder as he sputtered and wiped at his mouth, his eyes watering. "What _is_ that?" he asked, staring at his shot glass like it'd just done something offensive.

"That, my friend, is called Absinthe." He nodded at the bartender for another and tapped his glass against Sam's. "Bottoms up," he said as he slung back another.

There was a burning in Sam's stomach, and really, the last thing he wanted to do was drink another. But he felt the now-familiar sting down his throat, this time slightly less of one. He noted alarmingly that his head was beginning to swim already.

But there was another shot sitting in front of him and he wasn't sure he saw one in front of Puck. But he slammed it back anyway because the more he did, the less Quinn plagued his mind.

And then, after a few more shots of liquid courage, he spotted a blonde sitting a few stools away from him. She wasn't nearly as pretty. But if he squinted just so and used his imagination, he could kind of pretend it was Quinn.

God willing she accepted his drunken advances, of course.

Being shot down again would only further bruise his ego. But he sauntered up to the blonde anyway and leaned haphazardly against the counter as he cleared his throat. He'd yet to see her face, so his feet were in proper position for a hasty getaway if need be.

She turned around with a slightly annoyed look. Her eyes were blue and not green. They were small and slanted like a cat's, not like Quinn's. Her nose was shorter and turned up to a point. Her face was a completely different shape and she lacked the strong jaw.

But she was pretty, he figured. Pretty enough, anyway. At least her hair was the same color. She was looking at him expectantly, like if he didn't say anything soon, she was going to turn away from him so he better see his opportunity and take it.

So, that was what he did.

"So… uh, what are you drinking?" he asked and then kicked himself. Was that how you picked up girls in bars? Ask them what they're drinking?

She raised a brow (which was a very Quinn-like thing to do, he noted) and looked from him to her drink and then back to them. "Tonic and lime," she answered in a bored voice. Her voice was nasally and kind of high pitched, but it seemed to fit her.

"Oh. Right. That's cool." His words were slightly slurred and his already limited ways with girls were even more decimated as he searched his blurry mind for something else to say. When in doubt, introduce yourself, right?

He extended a hand. "Name's Sam."

She didn't make any moves to shake his hand so he let it drop. He was about ready to turn and walk away. Perhaps it was for the best.

"Rebecca," she finally said. She offered him a small smile and he knew he was in. Maybe she found his hopelessness endearing. He almost had to walk away right then. But instead he slipped into the stool beside the girl and mumbled "pretty name."

He wasn't sure when it happened. He wasn't even a dancer. He didn't even remember hearing her say anything other than her drink and her name. But there he was, holding her close, his fingers locking around her skirt that was entirely too short as they swayed together to the beat of the music.

She pressed herself against him, turning around to slip her hands around his neck. It was intimate. The whole thing felt entirely too intimate, but it didn't stop him from letting his hand trail down the middle of her back and lower still.

And then he let her pull him into a kiss. And it was weird. And it wasn't Sam at all. The way her tongue fought with his was so different from the way Quinn kissed him. But with Quinn back in his mind, he kissed Ruby or Reba or whatever her name was even harder. Her let a hand thread through her hair, crushing her to him.

The room was spinning. Not metaphorically. Not because she was the best kisser in the world. But because it seemed like every minute, he was being pulled further and further into the black abyss of his mind even though he'd quit drinking what felt like hours ago. He hardly had control of his limbs anymore.

He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he felt powerless to stop it. He couldn't stop. Even more, still, he was losing himself. He was in a subreality, some kind of alternate universe where the girl finally _did_ turn into Quinn. His grip on her side tightened, and his kiss became less frantic and hard and more passionate. "Quinn," he breathed against her lips.

The kiss was abruptly ended. He opened his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Until he remembered exactly where he was. "Rebecca," she reminded him in a disgusted tone as she reached out and shoved him hard in the chest. "Pig," she spat as she stalked away, the heels of her shoes making loud pointed stabs into the ground.

Sam backed up until he had something to support him. His breathing was heavier and more labored. He couldn't care about the girl walking away. He fumbled around for his phone and finally found Quinn's name in his contacts.

Voicemail.

"Q. I'm so sorry," he whispered into the phone, slurring his words and clutching the phone in his hands desperately. "I'm so, so sorry."

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><p>What Quinn always wanted was for someone to fight for her. She wanted them to prove that they wanted to be in her life. It might not have seemed that way, but Quinn was always doing the chasing. And even though everything was complicated and Sam's outburst had pissed her off in the worst way, she couldn't help but want him to fight for her.<p>

But phone calls and texts were _not_ enough.

So she hit ignore when he called her again. A few moments later, the tone for her voicemail went off and she was going to just delete it. She didn't care what it said. She didn't. She absolutely did not. Not in the slightest.

Except, she did. So, she called her voicemail and listened. And then her eyebrows pulled into complete confusion. Loud music blared out around his small voice, but he sounded… sad? Maybe drunk? Was he drinking?

She sighed heavily and deleted the message, her fingers quickly running over the buttons for his cell phone number.

He answered almost immediately and she could hear the unsteadiness of his voice. "Sam?" she asked in a panic, already reaching for her keys.

"Quinn?"

The voice stopped her in her tracks. "…Puck?"

"Don't worry about Sam. He had too much to drink and then I caught him sucking on some girl's face. He'll be fine in the morning. He won't _feel_ fine, but he'll be alive. You still want to talk to him?"

Quinn felt like she'd been punched straight in the stomach. It wasn't a fair reaction because it wasn't like she was dating Sam. But she couldn't stop the uncomfortable churning in her stomach. "No. Just… um. No, I don't. Hope you had fun tonight."

She ended the call and tossed her phone to the side, pulling her knees up to her chest for a moment before giving up and heading to bed. She could hardly stand the case of whiplash of the heart. She didn't want to care anymore.


End file.
